


fourteenth

by khayr



Category: Dredd (2012)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, happy valentine's day friends, otp: you look ready
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:31:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khayr/pseuds/khayr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Truth be told he’s just plain not into the whole pink chocolate and sappy greeting card thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fourteenth

Dredd has never been sure why this is considered a holiday. Perhaps it’s the lack of anything but work filling his day to day life since he got out of the academy, or maybe it’s just a general dislike of the frivolous cards and gifts that fly inbetween individuals just for this one day. This is the first year he’s had reason to do anything… but truth be told he’s just plain not into the whole pink chocolate and sappy greeting card thing.  
  
That’s why, when he shows up on Anderson’s doorstep in the early evening, she’s thoroughly surprised.   
  
“I brought you something,” he grunts, shifting a package under his arm. She takes it from him as he steps into her apartment, silently noting there’s _just_ too much tape on the outside. It’s heavy, although the weight feels somehow familiar to her. Anderson shoots him a puzzled expression.  
  
“You don’t strike me as the gift-giving type,” she replies, fingers working at the paper, “And _definitely_ not the Valentine’s type.” Dredd grumbles something she can’t quite catch; he’s already plopped down unceremoniously onto her couch and is propping his feet up on her coffee table. He’s watching her with a strange sort of interest that she doesn’t think she’s seen before. Anderson turns her attention back towards the package, and after she pulls off the rest of the tape and paper she realizes…  
  
It’s a Judge’s helmet.  
  
“You never wear yours so I figured you must have lost it.” Dredd says, voice dripping with amusement, “I picked you up a new one from the armory.” She turns on him with a flat look that says ‘ _you’re shitting me_ ’, but his face is twisted up into a smug grin. Instead she lets out a breath and shakes her head, putting the helmet down on the table and sinking down onto the couch beside him with a soft smile.   
  
“It’s perfect.” she laughs, snaking her arms around his neck and leaning into him. Anderson presses a kiss to his cheek, face crinkling at the scrape of his stubble. A sound like laughter rumbles someplace deep inside his chest.  
  
Next shift, she shows up with a helmet under her arm.


End file.
